The Night Before
by Ellemae
Summary: After a night of drinking with Lanie, Beckett's phone rings. It's Castle. Warning: definite smut here. Caskett. Mid season four.
1. The Night Before

She has her hand down her jeans. Sprawled on her back on her bed when he calls her.

She contemplates not answering it (for about a second) but she's a little tipsy from wine with Lanie and her hand's down her pants and she does it anyway.

"Beckett".

Her voice is maybe a little breathy but not that bad she doesn't think. She stilled her hand when the phone rang.

"Hey Beckett".

Unconsciously her hand starts moving again the moment he speaks. She was so close before but nothing was working but now his voice...she just needs him to keep talking doesn't matter what he says.

"What's going on Castle?"

She tries to keep her voice modulated because she's not sure what he'd do if he knew (except she'd never hear the end of it).

"Nothing much".

"Castle, you called me!"

She's pretty sure it's the right thing to say, pretty hopeful he won't pick up the tinge of sex in her voice.

It takes everything in her to bite back a moan as she rolls onto her stomach, grinding against her hand and her bed and waiting for Castle.

"I was just wondering what you were doing. I'm bored of writing, I've been doing it all day," he whines at her (and fuck if that doesn't turn her on more).

"And?"

"I thought maybe we could hang out? I haven't seen you in days, Beckett, with no new case and my idiotic deadline. I may be willing to admit that I kind of miss you".

It suddenly feels so good, too good and she can't stop the groan that escapes as the wave of an orgasm washes through her.

She covers her phone with the palm of her hand as she comes. At least having the foresight to try and muffle it. She should really hang up but she can't because Castle just did this to her with his words.

And goddamn it if even in the middle of an orgasm she doesn't want him again.

"Beckett, what's wrong?"

"Stubbed my toe".

He wonders if that's the truth but she does sound weird and before he can think about it more she's talking.

"Come over?"

She doesn't offer any explanation for why she's okay with what he just did...basically inviting himself over.

Normally there are pretenses (a movie night, talking about a case, problems with Alexis) but she doesn't offer any.

He's obviously coming over anyway, "Thirty minutes?"

"Perfect," she exhales.

And there's clearly something wrong with her or at least something different but he's seeing her soon so he'll figure it out later anyway.

She goes to the bathroom first, washes her hands and her face and touches up her make-up. She should probably change but she also knows she'll be in this state again the second she sees him so really why bother.

In her kitchen she's surprised to see how much of the bottle is already gone. They really worked their way through most of it so she corks it and puts it in the cabinet and grabs a new bottle of pinot noir.

* * *

She opens the door and grins at him.

He can't help but think how good she looks. Relaxed and casual in tight jeans and a dark purple sweater and no shoes.

But her eyes have a gleam to them he isn't used to and she's looking at him too long (for them).

"Beckett," he asks hesitantly as he closes her door behind him and shrugs out of his jacket, "Have you been drinking?"

"Lanie and I had a little wine, but don't worry, we'll catch you up".

She gestures toward her kitchen and a bottle of red with two glasses.

He presumes this is why she sounded so weird on the phone and at least that's that figured out.

* * *

She leans casually against her kitchen counter and refills his glass, her fingers distracting him as she holds it steady.

They're in the middle of an argument about Hitchcock movies of all things but he stops in the middle of a sentence because this is his third glass.

Looking quizzically at her, a smirk on his face, he can't help but interrupt himself.

"Shit Beckett are you trying to get me drunk?"

She raises an eyebrow at him and smiles seductively. Doesn't say a word but just looks at him.

He jokingly grabs the bottle of wine off the counter and takes a swig.

Half an hour later it doesn't seem so funny.

The bottle is mostly empty on the floor by her kitchen counter. They both drifted down there at some point, side by side, backs leaning against the counter and legs outstretched.

He stands and immediately realizes something.

"Shit Kate, I'm drunk".

"Yeah?"

She sounds okay with it, almost pleased.

She stands up gracefully, walks toward him, and all he can wonder is why she doesn't seem drunker.

This isn't the drunkest he's been in his life, early fame and fast millions saw to that, but it's the first time in a long time and the world is shifting around him but Beckett barely sways.

He wonders if he's still awake when she shoves him against the kitchen counter. But then her tongue's in his mouth and she's grinding against his hips and he's just drunk enough that all he can think is _this this this_.

He feels so good against her and this is what she's wanted for hours (days month years) so she doesn't let his confused grunt distract her though of course if he asks she'll stop. But she doesn't have to because he deepens the kiss and less than a minute after she started this he's fumbling with her jeans.

And all she can think is finally.

He's in her. She's straddling him, pushing his back against the kitchen counter. His strokes are sloppy, no real rhyme or reason.

"This. Feels s'good." She slurs at him and he realizes she's drunk too. Maybe even as drunk as he is.

All he can think is KateKateKate.

Then she's convulsing around him, collapsing against him, burrowing her head in his shoulder nose shoved against his neck.

They're still joined and they just sit there for a minute breathing each other in.

"Bathroom." She says and it's a statement not a question.

And then she's standing sliding off of him grabbing his hand and yanking him upright.

She keeps holding his hand as they stumble toward the bathroom. He doesn't ever want her to let go.

After she's done he pulls her to him again. And takes her slowly against the sink. Easing in and out somehow steadier the second time.

And he wonders if the alcohol wasn't the only thing making him sloppy.


	2. The Morning After

The morning sun shines brightly through the bedroom windows, its rays managing to land directly on Beckett's bed.

"Ugh," she groans as the light hit her face, throwing an arm up to shield her eyes.

"What?" Castle groans in response.

Beckett shots upright in her bed, instantly regretting the move as a wave of nausea rolled over her.

"Oh," she says, catching sight of Castle on her bedroom floor, "right".

The whole night comes flooding back.

"What's right?" Castle groans again, quizzical despite the pounding in his head.

"Nothing," Beckett mutters, letting her body sink back into her mattress, closing her eyes and breathing deeply through her mouth.

The world didn't move as long as she was still.

"Well, if nothing's right, then what's wrong?"

Beckett doesn't need to look at Castle to know that he's smirking. He loves his play on words.

"Castle," she mutters in exasperation.

"My head hurts," he whines in response.

She sighs.

"Castle, get in bed".

"Really?" He perks up considerably at the suggestion, propping himself up on one arm and glancing at Beckett to see if she's serious.

Her eyes are still closed but a smile flits across her face.

"We had sex last night, I think I'll live if you climb into bed with me".

"We had sex?!" Castle exclaims.

That forces her to open her eyes and sit upright in shock. She doesn't even notice the nausea. She just stares at him for a moment, mouth slightly ajar.

He smirks then laughs as he stands up and sits down on her bed.

"I'm kidding Beckett, I remember last night".

"Good," she breathes a sigh of relief.

"Good?" He tilts his head and looks at her, raising one eyebrow. He wants to ask her so many things, but he knows it's better to tread lightly with Kate Beckett.

"Yeah," she confirms, "good".

He isn't sure what exactly is good, but as long as something is that's enough for now.

She sways slightly in the bed and he suddenly notices how pale she is.

"Someone's really hungover," he chuckles.

"Shut up," she growls back at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her lie down right after he'd made that statement.

"Kate," he says softly, rubbing a hand down her arm and then immediately pulling her towards him.

He sinks down onto the bed and lowers her down next to him, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and stroking it soothingly.

Castle nuzzles into her hair, pushing her curls aside with his nose and kissing her once behind her ear.

Beckett lets her eyes drift shut again.

She was wrong. Her world is moving even though she's lying down. Hell, her whole world just changed.

MMM

Castle isn't sure how much time has passed when the shrill ring of Beckett's cell phone jars him awake.

"Beckett". She starts in response to the ring, sitting up abruptly and running a hand through her tousled hair.

He blinks at her in amazement, although he quickly realizes that he shouldn't be surprised that she could be awake and professional so quickly. Of course she does this all the time.

"Okay, okay…" she nods slightly, "Thanks for letting me know".

She hangs up the phone and tosses it on the bed with an irritated sigh. Beckett groans and lets her hand fall into the palm of her hand, bracing her elbows on top of her knees.

Castle doesn't say anything, but he gets up and heads towards Beckett's bathroom, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

He roots around for a second in her bathroom cabinet, frustrated by the make-up and lotion that is in his way. Finally his hand settles on what he was looking for.

He walks back into the bedroom and sees Kate still in the position that he'd left her in a minute before.

He grabs the glass of water off her dresser, glancing in it to make sure that it isn't too disgusting. Who knew how long it had been sitting out for? Of course, this was Beckett he was talking about, and the rest of her apartment was spotless, so best guess was not very long.

He approaches her cautiously, almost as though she's a wild animal that would bolt if he moved too fast. He snorts at that, biting back a laugh as he realizes the comparison he just made.

"What?" Beckett looks up at him, her eyes slightly narrowed as though she suspects he was about to do or say something wildly inappropriate.

He simply sits down next to her on the bed and wordlessly hands her the glass of water. He pops open the pill bottle he was holding and taps two pills into the palm of his hand.

Beckett looks at him in surprise then smiles in thanks. She swallows the pills down quickly and then takes a deep breath.

"Thanks, Castle".

He shrugs, "No problem." He pauses and looks at her, a slightly awkward silence filling her bedroom.

"So," he continues, clearing his throat, "Do we have a case?"

"Well," she rolls her eyes at him, "_we_ don't have anything. I, on the other hand, do have a case".

"Hey!" He punches her lightly on the arm, "I help!"

She can't help the bark of laughter that escapes nor the grimace that follows as she realizes that her head is still a little sensitive for that kind of thing.

"Are you okay?" Castle instantly looks concerned.

"I'll live," she says dryly, "I have been hungover before".

"You don't say?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at her roguishly, "Part of the Kate Beckett wild years?"

"Shut up Castle," she says in response, rolling her eyes and clambering out of the bed.

"Not a problem," he says softly.

She turns and looks at him with surprised. His eyes are slowly tracing her body, and she realizes with a start that she's naked.

"Oh!" She exclaims a little embarrassed.

"Sorry," he clears his throat and forces his gaze away from her, settling on staring out her window instead.

"Right, ummm," she shakes off the awkwardness, "I need to get ready, I have a feeling Gates isn't going to be too happy if she hears how long it took me to get to the crime scene".

"And I guess I should…" he trails off, risking a sideways glance her way.

She sighs. "Get dressed; no one knows what you were wearing yesterday anyway, since you didn't come into the precinct".

"And…" He says hesitantly not quite sure where she's going with that.

"And you can come with me to the crime scene".

"Yes!" He exclaims, emphasizing his point with a fist pump.

She turns and walks into the bathroom hiding her grin.


End file.
